Tragic Lovers
by Art Witch - Aka Mizu
Summary: A story of murder, drunkness, canobalism, suicide, and most importantly: yaoi. I wrote it with my friend; hope you like it. oneshot  original characters


**Hello, everyone! I wrote this with my friend, Kasami Kat via email. She's on DeviantART.**

_**~*&*~Tragic Lovers~*&*~**_

The taller man was leaning by the edge of the pond, his sleeves pushed up just so, an arm in the cold of the water, holding the younger figure under. After a moment, his arm tensed and he pulled the other figure up- another man, not much younger than he was, with blonde hair and gray eyes, drenched to the bone.  
"Wha- What was that for?" the blonde boy spat out, shivering and chattering. The other man leaned to him, his breath reeking of alcohol, their lips brushing with each movement.  
"Because I love you." the other man said, giving the other a kiss, before pulling away and handing the chattering blonde a towel.  
"I love you, too. I- I also hate you a l-" The blonde was cut off by another kiss. He nearly wanted to scream at the dark haired man- he was going to suffocate; he barely had enough air in his lungs to talk.  
"Don't hate me." The dark haired man said, rubbing the towel on the other boy's head, smiling at him with kindness.

The dark haired man, Lukas, pulled away, his breath still on poor Able. "Please, let me go..." Able begged. As much as he loved Lukas, he couldn't stay like this. Not this way.

"I don't want to let go... not ever," Lukas replied, the bitter taste of alcohol on his lips. He stared into Able's grey eyes with his hazel, begging Able to stay.

"I beseech you! Let me go!" Able pleaded. Unfortunately, Lukas was drunk, as always. He was also angry and foolish. He lowered the towel from Able's head.

"Why do you hate me?" Lukas managed to splur.

"You drink; you lie -" Lukas cut him off with a kiss. Able tried to pound his lover's chest, but Lukas was stronger, and held him in place.

Phil pushed Able back into the pond. "LUKAS!" Able cried out, praying that Lukas would come in and rescue him. Lukas tried not to cry as he watched Able flop around, trying to stay above surface

Lukas gave a slight smile as he watched Abel flailing in the water. "My darling," he said, the words coming from his mouth, sweet like honey and bitter like clover, "Do you _honestly_ expect me to let you off easily?" His previous displeasing at seeing his love in the water was forgotten.  
"Please- Please, Luka, please!" Abel choked out. Lukas leaned to the water reaching a hand out that Abel took gladly. Lukas's hand trailed up Abel's arm, on his shoulder, then his head.  
"Lukas! Please, N-!"Abel shrieked before his head was pushed under the water again.  
"My love of flesh and blood," Lukas said poetically, "You are no more than another beautiful face with need for air, my love, and you are only mine." He pushed his darling further under the water, grinning with sadistic pleasure.  
Abel was flailing under the water and slowly stopping. The lack of air- he felt Lukas bring him to air. He inhaled the air- it tasted sweet, as all air did to one who hadn't breathed. That wonderful breath was cut off by Lukas' mouth.  
Hot _damn._ Did he really have to...?  
Abel's eyes widened, finally understanding this was what the sadist had planned the whole time. Lukas kept his mouth firmly planted to Abel's- Abel couldn't breathe out of his nose, too much water.  
Lukas kept his mouth where it was until he was kissing the corpse of his frail little lover.  
Lukas let go of the body, dropping it and glaring at it with disgust. "You're damn _pitiful._" He sneered, then brightening with an idea- he'd take his love's body, cook it, eat it.  
That would be _splendid._

Lukas was actually upset that Able had died, not that he'd show it. In his sick, twisted mind, he felt that the only way to preserve the memory of Able was to eat his corpse. Of course, that would also get rid of all evidence...

The plan was simply perfect. Only question is - what to eat first? He easily lifted Able; he'd done it hundreds of times before. Lukas set him onto the warm ground; he gathered dry wood and lay them onto the soft earth next to Able. The next thing he did was rummage through his bag in which he had placed here merely hours ago - when Able was planning on a swim. Lukas pulled out a tiny bottle full of whisky - one of many. Yes, the strong alcohol was in his system, and he poured more in. In his other hand, he kept a lighter. He drank half the bottle in one gulp, the other half he threw onto the wood - glass and all. He quickly lit the wood; he jumped back as it burst into flames. He then grabbed a pocket knife from his bag.

Lukas set the towel down in a sweeping motion. He transferred Able's corpse onto the towel and clicked his knife open.

It didn't seem right to prepare his little darling in the open like this- someone would steal little Abel. Lukas lifted the body bridal-style; his darling looked as if he were only sleeping. Taking care, he put him in the car they once shared, buckling him in, then himself in the driver's seat- a five minute drive to the apartment they'd also shared once-upon-a-time.  
He carried his little love up the stairs, getting into the cramped apartment without actual hesitation. Lukas was in the door; simply setting his darling on the floor before closing all ten locks on the door- he didn't want anyone in, not another soul.  
"Let's see, my darling..." Lukas muttered before stripping the body of Abel naked, making light cuts where he'd take his little one apart. Making all those cuts was certainly tedious- he'd eat his darling's head last.  
He started with those delicate little flower-hands- so small and pale. He had the stove on, a pot sitting on a burner. He'd filled the pot with blood and dropped Abel's flower-hands in. They fell and sank under with a satisfying _ksh. _Why was it that he was almost feeling as though he'd cry, seeing that face on his darling? His eyes screamed, "Why, Luka, Why?" and brimmed with tears. His own eyes were tearing- then he trailed a finger over a narrow collarbone- such flawless and pale skin. Abel had a few moles on his chest and arms, yes, but he was still beautiful.

He sat on the couch, Able's head in his hands. He stared into his eyes, not having the heart to close them. "Able, you know I love you. I always have..." He patted the bag next to him. In his mood swing, he decided that his method was all wrong. He had many mood swings, and it was almost as if he were two people.

He placed Able's head next to him; he opened the bag and pulled out the knife. He opened it and hesitated. He needed a souvenir of his beloved. He needed to do this properly. He took up Able's head and his knife. He set them both on the kitchen table before returning to his bedroom that he had once shared with Able. Lukas entered the room with a broken heart.

He thrust a drawer open and looked through it frantically. Finally, he found a little, ebony box that had been a present from Able. In golden, swirly letters, it read: _To Lukas From Able_

He carried the box back to the table where the head of his deceased lover lay. "Oh, Able, my dear; my sweet..." He hummed the song that Able loved so, before lifting the knife. He first cut a chunk of Able's hair. To prevent the blood from getting on it, he placed it in the box. Then, he put the knife to Able's eye and sliced, creating a larger socket. He ignored the blood that goosed out from the socket. In order to not damage the eye, he stopped cutting and grabbed hold with his fingers. He pulled out his eye. Lukas than repeated the process.

The dinger on the stove went off. He jumped up, and ran to the stove, ignoring Able's bleeding head. He stirred Able's limbs with a wooden spoon. Suddenly, a wave of guilt ran through him. Able deserved better than a wooden spoon! He tossed it aside and found the best, metallic spoon he could find. Humming, he resumed cooking.

Lukas served himself Able's remains. He returned to the eyeballs as he waited for his food to cool. He washed Able's grey eyes in a cool bowl of water. The hideous ligaments were taken off, and he shined them with a fine cloth. He placed them in the box.

He sat to eat, and it was the juiciest meat he'd ever tasted!

The silver cutlery, the lovely china- all to eat his darling beloved.  
Wasn't there something...? Oh, that was it. He needed wine. There was a bottle in the pantry, Abel's favorite. When he reached over to the bottle, he noticed that there was an envelope under it- a pink stamp closed it, swirling gray letters writing Lukas' name. "Darling Abel..."  
He took the bloodied blade from his pocket, slitting the top open in a quick, fluid movement.  
_Lukas,  
I love you so dearly! Happy 3rd anniversary! 33  
~~Abel~~  
_Luka's eyes teared at the letter- that was right, tomorrow would have been their third anniversary.  
They wanted to get married one day. At least, Abel did. (It was obvious who topped the other at night. Too Obvious.) Lukas was going to smile now, smile and drink wine and eat his the rest of beloved._  
_

Lukas popped open the bottle of wine. He poured it into the finest glass he could find. He returned to his chair. The fork was lying next to the plate.

He cut into the flesh, and took a bite. The flavors burst in his mouth. It was juicy and tender... To be expected from dear Able. After all, he was the one who tenderized Able. Remembering the nights they spent together made Lukas's heart heave. Lukas wiped his eyes with his hand, and to his surprise, there were no tears. He looked down at his plate. He finished eating the corpse that had a sultry taste.

.

The wine was starting to taste sweeter and bitter at the same time.  
Abel's favorite. Abel's corpse was gone, save for his head on the table. He was still beautiful, despite one eye dangling out, a lock of hair missing.  
Lukas was crying now- why? It didn't make too much sense. His little love of flesh and bone was only bones and a head.

Tears threatened to pour down his face. "Oh, Able..." he sighed. Yet another wave of guilt washed over him. This time, it was for the death of Able in general. He picked up his knife and held it to his face to examine it. In a swift motion, he thrust it down into his heart.

* * *

An elderly woman kept knocking to ask for a cup of sugar. She knew the men who lived here; surely they would give her some.

After no one answered, she called the police. All they found was a body of a dark haired man, his eyes open wide with a knife in his chest; a head with an eyeball missing; a box filled with a grey eye and blonde hair; and fine china and a wine glass - the remains of two tragic lovers.


End file.
